


Ink and Flowers

by oaken



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, F/M, Fluff, Lunyx Week, Lunyxweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 14:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12483644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oaken/pseuds/oaken
Summary: Damn. He had come here for a tattoo, not a crush.





	Ink and Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to Lunyx week 2017. Day 1: Alternative Story.

The ceaseless rush of main streets left well behind his back, Nyx headed down the cobblestone streets that led into the historic area of the town. With the sound of passing cars, screeching tires and endless chatter disappearing into the background, wintery peace settled in his mind. The man exhaled and looked up at the colorless sky. Winter had come.

It was late November, and the first snow had fallen earlier in the morning - as fragile as it was beautiful. The light dust of white had easily melted away moments later, but the heavy, grey clouds that promised more still lined the sky. They stretched across the sky like a blanket, filtering the sunlight and robbing the world of its warmth.

Same was true for people as well. Bundled up in warm coats, with their cheeks and tips of their noses red from the cold, they seemed withdrawn, grey. Much like the sky above them. They rushed about from warmth of one building to another, not lingering on the streets - pale ghosts of leisurely strolling and laughing crowds of summer.

Nyx liked to think that he did not allow the winter to boss him around as much. The cold stung his face and hands alike, but he walked with a proudly lifted head and watched the world around him with the same enthusiasm as he did when it was bathed in warm sunlight. There was a price to be paid for that - colds that he caught a little more than others around him and cracking skin on his hands. This price he paid with a quirked grin. It was nothing that couldn’t be fixed with a hot drink, some medicine and a decent hand cream.

The buildings around him were a mixture of modern ones and those enduring over decades still. Clean, sharp edges of glass and metal clashed with muted angles of wood and chipping paint. The one Nyx was headed to was an older building - restored but still tiny. It was squished between two modern ones that towered high above it - a luxurious apartment building and a three-story makeup store. In the wooden walls that sat amidst the two a tattoo parlor made its home.

With a spring in his step, Nyx stepped up to the building’s black door over which a red neon sign was hanged. Black Velvet Ink. Well, almost. One of the letters had taken damage from drunk patrons and the ‘B’ now was slightly off to one side and flickering incessantly unlike the other letters. There was no mistaking it, this was the right place.

Nyx reached for the handle and pushed it down, wincing as his fingers clasped around the icy metal. A couple of degrees lower, and his hand might have stuck. This beginning of winter was damn cold... He gritted his teeth, though, and moved to open the door to finally step inside.

As soon as the door closed behind him with a gentle click, the cold chill gave way to warmth that instantly enveloped Nyx. His body adjusted to the sudden change of temperature with an instinctual shiver. No matter the man’s personal spite against the cold, it was still nice to be indoors. He had not grown up in a place that prepared him for prolonged periods outside when the temperature dropped this low. 

Nyx moved to wipe his feet on the fluffy, dark rug placed at the door. A couple of gentle kicks dislodged pieces of dirt that had filled out the empty spaces in his soles. He took a deep breath and pulled his scarf off. 

The smell of sterile environment made Nyx’s brows furrow. The lingering scent of cleaners prevalent in the clean air, it smelled like a damn hospital in here. The smell was likely the thing Nyx enjoyed least about tattoo shops. That and the buzzing of tattoo guns.

What he enjoyed the most was art, and this place provided it quite generously. Framed artworks lined the walls - designs and personal work of the artists working in Black Velvet Ink. Same six signatures repeated over and over again. The tiny art gallery formed on the walls contained full blown watercolor paintings, inkwork, rough charcoal sketches and anything in between.

Nyx’s gaze lingered on a sizeable watercolor piece. Black crow taking flight, red runes lining its feathers. The bird’s claws had clasped around a crown it appeared to have lifted from a human skull underneath. Striking - lots of bold blackness against pristine white, and just enough red to bring it to life. Not quite something he would enjoy having on his own skin for the rest of his life, he was into far more abstract and subtle works. The view of it was nice, though.

“Hello, are you here for an appointment?” a woman’s voice interrupted the art viewing.

Nyx turned towards the source of the voice. The woman it belonged to - blond, fragile-looking thing - appeared to be the receptionist. She was holding a folder in her hands and smiled at him with warmth that easily put the winter sun outside to shame. Charming.

“Uh, yeah. Nyx Ulric, I called earlier about a walk-in.”

“Oh, yes, I remember,” the woman began rustling through the folder for something.

Remember? Nyx’s eyebrow quirked up at that. He did not recall talking to this lady on the phone. It had been a man’s voice back then. Perhaps the artist himself had picked the phone up? Speaking of-

There was no sign of the artist. The place looked empty other than the woman that was busy with searching her folder for something. It was midday so it made sense - the staff had likely dispersed for a lunch somewhere nearby. There were a few temptingly aromatic cafes and affordable kebab places on the way here, after all. The thought caused a minor ache in his stomach. Perhaps he should stop by one of the fast food places on the way back-...

“Found it!” the cheerful voice nearly startled him. “Here you go, these are the simple arrow designs we have.”

The woman had stepped closer now, and suddenly, the air around Nyx smelled like her flowery perfume. There was also a page filled with simple designs under his nose. Nyx ignored it for a moment, his gaze lingering on the warm smile still present on the woman’s face. Who could blame him? She was cute. And smelled nice.

Apparently, the woman was insistent too. The edge of the paper made contact with the tip of Nyx’s nose in a gentle but pointed jab. 

“Here you go,” she repeated, the tone a little more demanding than it had been the first time.

Nyx huffed out an amused noise and lifted his hand to take the paper offered to him. It was covered in tiny, mostly abstract pre-made tattoo designs. Triangles, lines, combination of circles-... And there they were. Arrows.

The meaning behind an arrow tattoo had long since lost its edge from being overused. Nyx wanted nothing to do with all that crap. He had not come here to engrave something deep and meaningful on his skin to boast about or retell a whole chapter of a history book on whenever someone asked. The desire was much simpler than that. Arrows looked cool, and he’d wanted a face tattoo for a while now.

The one design in particular that caught the man’s attention was a stylized arrowhead with a dot accompanying it. It was more of a clean, geometric shape than a clearly depicted object like the others. He enjoyed the simplicity of life, and if his tattoos could reflect the same feeling, they were more than welcomed. A lot of things were simpler if they were not overthought.

Nyx hummed to himself quietly and glanced in the nearby mirror, picturing the tattoo on his cheek. It would go well enough with the one that followed the outline of a muscle on his neck - a simple, long line with a couple of smaller ones branching off of it. Very well. This one would do.

He held the paper back out to the woman and pointed out the design he had picked.

“Tell the artist I want that one. On my cheek,” Nyx poked a finger at a spot slightly above the area his shadow of a beard covered.

“Actually, I am your tattoo artist for the day. ...Unless, of course, you’d prefer if I wasn’t.”

A hint of disappointment flashed across the woman’s face as she spoke those words. Warm smile had fallen to a serious expression. Her gentle fingers gripped the folder tighter to her chest, and the paper gave ever so slightly to the pressure, creasing. She expected him to walk out then and there. Apparently, it had happened before.

While Nyx found himself at a loss at seeing someone like this woman as his tattoo artist - without a single inkwork on her own skin - he wasn’t opposed. It didn’t really matter who inked the tiny little thing on his cheek really. Right?

One glance at the frown on the woman’s face assured him of the opposite, however. Suddenly he cared very much who was going to put the tattoo gun to his face. It was either going to be this fairy of a tattoo artist that took a little too much pleasure in jabbing his face with a paper or it was going to be nobody at all.

“Sorry, my mistake, miss-?”

“Luna,” she provided half-heartedly.

“Right. So where do I sit, miss Luna?”

Immediately, her head shot up and two bright blue eyes peered at Nyx with renewed enthusiasm. Luna’s lips curved back into a smile - an expression that fit her far more than a frown. Nyx grinned back and felt something warm stirring inside of him at seeing the woman come to life like flower at the rays of a spring sun.

Damn. He had come here for a tattoo, not a crush. 

***

Gentle hands, clad in black gloves, cleaned the skin on his cheek and applied the stencil with meticulous care. The woman pulled back to fill the ink pot, tilting her head when one of the loose strands of her hair tickled her neck. Then came the buzzing sound - shrill and persistent. Nyx winced at it, but Luna didn’t seem disturbed in the least. She adjusted her chair a little closer and looked at him. There was a warning in her gaze, the last one she planned to offer - Nyx had already assured her that he was absolutely certain about wanting his face inked up.

“It’s a small tattoo, but it’s on your face. It will sting.”

“I know. Go ahead.”

Satisfied with the answer, the woman nodded and leaned forward. 

It was a mixture of sensations that followed. Single needle of the tattoo machine dug into his skin. The sharp pain contrasted with the gentle waft of Luna’s perfume. He had thought it smelled like flowers the first time he had noticed it. But this close - with her neck arched over him - it seemed stronger, sweeter. 

Or perhaps it was simply because of the lackluster his senses were thrown into at the sudden pain. ...And definitely because of the distraction that was the new, rather exciting angle on Luna’s chest rising and falling as she breathed. 

That was when he noticed it - a faint, white line curling along her collarbone. White ink. Nyx followed it with his gaze, trying to ignore the sting and vibration from the tattoo machine pressed against his skin. The line of the white tattoo curved, curled in on itself and blossomed into an entire arabesque-like pattern on Luna’s skin.

Suddenly it made a lot more sense why the girly little thing had chosen to make her mark on this world in blood and ink. She found it beautiful too, didn’t she?

Nyx lifted his gaze to watch her work. The blue eyes were focused on where the needle touched his skin, a slight crease between her eyebrows. Luna’s lips were parted, and the tip of her tongue could be seen pressed to the corner of her mouth in concentration. She did not even notice that yet another strand of hair had come undone from her complicated updo. It swung lightly along the slightest of movements she made. 

Nyx’s fingers itched to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. If the woman did not have a sharp machine working on his face, he might have risked it. Right now the stakes of a simple flirt were a bit too high for Nyx’s liking. Another time.

“You’re all done!”

The buzzing stopped, and Luna wiped his face of blood and ink, a relaxed smile blooming on her face. Her eyes were no more focused on the freshly inked shape on Nyx’s cheek. She was looking him in the eyes, and something inside of Nyx suddenly understood the love that made wolves howl at the moon.

***

Stepping back into the real world was odd. It was harsh and loud, and cold. Nyx felt his entire being beckoning him to return to the warmth of the tattoo shop. It might smell too much like a hospital, and the buzzing of the tattoo machine was terrible, but-...

He glanced back at the window of the building. The light inside was bright enough to provide him with a glance at the fairy of Black Velvet Ink. Luna was fixing up her hair in front of the mirror with hair pins sticking out from corners of her mouth, same cute crease of concentration present on her forehead. It was almost painful how adorable she was.

Nyx knew already that this would not be his last visit around these parts. If he had to get tattooed from head to toe to be near Luna, he just might. 

The man grinned at the thought, ignoring the slight pain it caused for his freshly tattooed cheek, and put his collar up to combat the harsh winter wind. A rumble from his abdomen reminded of the idea for a lunch, and Nyx headed down the street towards where a kebab shop lured with savory scent wafting in the air.

**Author's Note:**

> It's good to have some of my immense love for these two out of my system : D Let me know what you thought~
> 
> Now time to immerse into goodness everyone else has posted as a reward, haha!


End file.
